


Chipped Cup

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Other, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being unable to save their hunting partner, the reader falls into depression and details their ventures into self-harm. As it progresses, the reader thinks that the only way to gain 'peace' is to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chipped Cup

**Author's Note:**

> This one really hit close to home for me as I still have bouts of depression and relapse sometimes. I really identify with the show's characters and what they've been through. Please, if you feel like any of this would be triggering, do not continue reading. Thank you and I hope that if any one of you ever feels the same that you please try to talk to someone. Bless <3

"You need to stop being so _goddamn reckless_ , Y/N!" Dean shouts the words into the silence of the Impala.

The tension had been building since the three of you had entered the car. It thickened the air like some toxic gas.

After you had watched your best friend die, something had finally snapped inside of you.

The darkness from all of those hunts had risen up like a tidal wave and crashed over your head. The nightmares came regularly. The dreams flooded with terror, blood, and violence each night. You'd stopped sleeping to keep them at bay. The lack of rest had only worsened your condition.

Anger and self-hate and sorrow constantly ate at your nerves. The only thing that kept the emotions at bay was pain.

You'd started small; just biting the insides of your mouth enough to sting as a coppery taste ran over your tongue. Then, one night, you'd taken a pen-knife and traced it over your thighs.

It'd been the beginning of the end. You craved the feeling of pain. The heat and burn turned the feelings to ashes and you were able to function a little. Soon, though, little sets of three's hadn't been enough. Then sixes hadn't worked. Your thighs were a mess of criss-crossing red, brown, pink, and white lines. You hadn't dared touch your arms for fear that Sam or Dean would catch you and the marks.

But, after a while, it all stopped working. You'd become...Well, reckless, as Dean had said. Your life really seemed to mean nothing now. You were simply a deadweight around the Winchester's ankles. You had always been the less-skilled part of your own hunting group. It'd been what killed your best friend in the end. If you'd been faster, stronger, smarter, maybe she'd still be here. Although, you thought, you'd been nothing but a sack of weight around her neck, too.

So when the werewolves you and the boys had been hunting cornered you and Sam, you'd thrown yourself in front of his body. Even going so far as to attack the creatures though you'd lost your weapon somewhere in the woods. Dean had arrived just as a werewolf was preparing to rip your throat out. You'd almost been...At peace. You hadn't even struggled as those teeth neared your body or when the claws gouged into your arms. And then it all was taken away as Dean and Sam laid waste to the beasts. You hungered for the feeling again. Peace, oblivion. Sweet darkness.

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Dean's hand smacked against the steering wheel.

You glanced up. "I'm sorry."

"You keep acting like this, so help me God, I'll throw you out-"

Sam made a noise. "Dean-"

Dean wasn't having it. "No, Sam. This isn't the first time she's almost gotten herself killed. Who knows when she'll slip up next? You could get hurt, or Cas."

You looked down at your hands. "It won't happen anymore, I promise."

"Good." Dean pulled into the bunker's garage. The car door slammed after him.

Slowly, you exited the Impala and traced a finger lovingly over the door handle. It was a beautiful car. You almost felt sad that you'd never get a chance to sit in the driver's seat.

Sam cleared his throat. You glanced up at the younger Winchester and made your lips move up in a smile.

"I'm sorry about what happened back there. I didn't mean to scare you."

Sam's eyes examined you as they narrowed slightly. His brows drew down. "Y/N, is something wrong? Are you okay?"

Some tiny bit of you reached out, screaming for you to say ' _yes_ ', to pour it all out.

You smiled wider and shook your head. "Nah. I'm fine. Just tired." Tired of all of this.

"Okay, well. Go get some rest, okay?" With that, he walked down the hall toward his room.

You gave it a moment before you headed down the hall to your own.

Dean had music playing loudly in his room. Light seeped out from the crack beneath the door.

Once in your room, you engaged the locking mechanism. Your removed your clothes and folded them neatly before dressing in a thin white t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts. The tap in the sink ran softly as you filled a glass of water and then sat against the head of your bed.

You pulled the drawer of your nightstand open and withdrew the orange bottle of prescription pills you'd stolen from a pharmacy on the last hunt. The little pills clicked around the plastic container as you popped the lid off and set the letters you'd written earlier on the stand. The round pieces of medicine went down easy and fast. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

After some time, your head began to spin. Your stomach lurched and you fought to keep the pills down.

You wanted this. You _needed_ this. Peace would come soon.

The faint sound of knocking came. Sam's voice issued from the other side of the door. "Y/N, can I come in?"

There was a moment of silence wherein you attempted to hasten the process of your death by the simple task of wishing.

"Y/N." Sam knocked again with more urgnecy. "Y/N, are you all right?"

Your throat wouldn't work to answer him. Nausea rolled through you.

The door knob rattled and you were glad that you'd had the presence of mind to lock the door. That didn't phase Sam though. The frame rattled as something heavy collided with the surface once, twice, three times. On the fourth, the jam gave way and Sam fell into the room.

The lights flared and burned through your closed eyelids. " _Oh, shit, no_."

The bed jolted as Sam ran to your side. Fingertips pressed against your pulse and he sighed with relief.

"DEAN! _DEAN_!" Sam's bellowing echoed off of the close walls as the empty pill bottle clattered to the floor as you were lifted off the bed. " _DEAN_!"

Movement sounded in the doorway. "What's-" Dean's voice sounded low and angry.

"She's swallowed a whole thing of pills. We don't have much time. I need you to run to the kitchen and get me as much salt-water as you can. Hurry!"

Footsteps pounded down the hall as Sam carried you away from the bed. Your eyes wouldn't open.

Suddenly, something had your body trembling and jerking.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled as his arms tightened.

Something pried your mouth open and then warm, salty liquid was flooding your mouth as fingers rubbed your throat to make you swallow. The liquid hit the pit of your stomach and you gagged as bile rose. Your cheek met something cool and hard and then the contents of your stomach left via your mouth.

It seemed like forever that Sam held you over the cold object as you choked and heaved. Your body gradually stopped quaking. What seemed like days later, you went limp, gasping for air. Your stomach clenched but had nothing more to give.

You fought to open your eyes. "Why?" The word scraped your throat raw as tears wetted your cheeks.

Dean's face was pale and his hands were shaking at his sides like leaves in the wind. "We could ask you the same question."

"Hurts too...Much." You gasped out. "Want...It all to...Go away."

Sam's hands still held your body. He was curled beside you, eyes wild and skin just as pale as his brother's. "Killing yourself isn't the way out, Y/N."

You made a sound of disagreement as your head spun. "Nothing else...Helped...Anymore."

Your hand ghosted over your thighs. The rough and ridged skin there felt like a topographical map.

" _Jesus Christ_ ," Dean breathed. "Why didn't you ever say anything, Y/N. Me and Sammy, we coulda helped you."

"Too weak...Dragged you...Down." You reminded him. "Already got...Sarah killed. Didn't want...To hurt...you, too."

"You would have hurt us by dying, Y/N. Me and Dean, we need you. You're a part of our family, now." Sam tucked a lock of sweat-drenched hair behind your ear.

"I never should have said any of those things to you, Y/N." Dean's hands fisted at his sides.

You shook your head and groaned as your stomach protested. "Truth."

"No. I was mad and worried and my mouth got ahead of my brain. I didn't mean any of it. I was scared that one day I wouldn't get there to save your ass one day."

Guilt burned in your belly. "'M sorry. I was...Selfish."

"Sweetheart, no." Sam pressed closer. "You were hurting and didn't know how to ask for help. We should have seen it."

You sighed into the air. "Tried so hard...To hide it."

"You don't have to. Me and Dean, we're here for you, okay? Anytime you need us, no matter what, we're here for you."

Tears trickled down your cheeks. "I love...You guys. So much."

Dean's eyes glittered as he reached down and gently eased you up onto the counter-top. Carefully, he helped you brush your teeth. Every movement had your head whirling like a merry-go-round.

Sam waited out the night with you. His large frame draped over a chair as he assured you that he would make sure that if a nightmare attacked, he'd wake you up.

 

 

The road to recovery was long. It was hard and pitted with relapses. Sam and Dean were there for you through the whole journey.

They never judged you when you admitted cutting again after a rough hunt.

They accepted the fact that you were always going to have a few chips in your cup. There wasn't any way of going back in time and making you whole again. But, you liked to think that with their help, you'd become a little bit stronger at your broken places.


End file.
